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Sometimes I feel so tangled—overwhelmed, isolated, disconnected from the Creator. A numbness rests on my mind, as if I could feel it sitting on the tip of my tongue. Sour. And yet, the most beautiful memories of my childhood were always like this. My mind was used to working through that sharp scent; my sentences would flow endlessly, even when their bitterness sent a shiver through me. There was something strangely captivating about that sour trace inside me. I could read th

It was a curious irony that a child who once refused to eat would grow up to have a profession built around food. Yet, looking back, he...